


En's The Next Generation Illustrated Drabbles

by subspacecommunication (nattherat)



Series: Star Trek Ficlets [2]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Female Friendship, Gen, Illustrated, alien redesigns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:40:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8351317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nattherat/pseuds/subspacecommunication
Summary: As the title says. They're illustrations with small drabbles/ficlets, and as usual they're with my redesigned aliens (which you can find on my tumblr). Lots of canon divergence ahoy!





	

 

“It’s understandable Tasha,” Deanna replied patiently, “You’ve been put in a very difficult position. Your feelings are perfectly valid, anyone would feel like this.”

Yar ran a fist through her hair, trying to expel the anger she felt.

“I just _hate_ feeling obligated like this. I feel like I owe it to the ship, to Captain Picard, to accept this. Ugh-”

She leapt up and paced around the table and chairs, balling her hands in and out of fists.

“And I _hate_ thinking about... about whatever timeline _she_ came from. I’ve worked _so hard_ to leave that behind, I-”

Aside from some tense words traded in the Neutral Zone, the Federation and the Romulan Empire were in a time of peace. The idea of having been taken as a slave, the spoils of war, in another timeline disgusted her. Tasha threw herself back down on the chair, squeezing the arms of it. She had no-one to direct her hate at, it wasn’t that Romulan’s fault, it wasn’t hers - in her timeline nothing had even happened. 

Deanna’s bristles moved, probably picking up Tasha’s conclusions, and the security chief shrugged in defeat, collapsing backwards.

“What do I do Deanna? I can’t ignore her for the rest of my life, I can’t tell her to leave. It’ll probably come down to me to guard her, now she’s defected.”

Deanna nodded, and her four eyes blinked slowly in a manner Tasha had always found soothing.

“Regardless of how she is here, and why she came to be here, Sela needs you. She has carried the guilt of her mother’s death her whole life, and she truly believes you are the mother she has lost.”

“But I’m _not_ her mother. I can’t be. Even if I wanted to.”

There was a pause between them, and Tasha finally let her fists uncurl and stay that way. She felt... a little better. For having let it all out.

“You don’t have to be her mother,” Deanna smiled with her eyes, reaching out with her hooves to touch Tasha’s arm. “Perhaps not even a friend. Simply... listen to her, for now, when you can. Now she knows you are alive, I suspect time will heal her.”

**Author's Note:**

> (Sorry about the sketch in this one, it didn't really go according to plan so I decided not to finish it completely. I didn't want to not post this ficlet though, so here it is!)


End file.
